


Three in a bed

by Marcus_S



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Addams Family - All Media Types, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, No Plot/Plotless, Teenage sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S/pseuds/Marcus_S
Summary: A completely ridiculous cross over fic with absolutely no plot what so ever. Please do read the tags though, if even thinking about sado-masochism or early teenage sexuality upsets you please don’t read it.
Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Arya Stark/Hermione Granger
Kudos: 1





	Three in a bed

**Author's Note:**

> The characters belong to the relevant people and organisations, the story remains © M Stanson 2020

Wednesday Addams found herself wedged quite firmly between Arya Stark and Hermione Grainger in a Hogwarts dorm. The how and why of the situation seemed to have slipped Wednesday’s mind, all she was currently aware of was the mildly pleasant discomfort of one of Arya’s elbows sticking in her ribs, not real pain, but needs must when one is forced to lie in a bed whose mattress was clearly filled with something that most definitely wasn’t nails. That she had to remain in this position for the present was a given. Even in the advantageous location of the middle Wednesday was aware that in a bed designed for one as all school dormitory beds were designed for one ‘and one only’ to discourage nocturnal activities other than sleep; she needed to remain still to avoid throwing one or other of the girls onto the floor. She felt that Hermione in particular was holding her firmly because there was very little of the bed under her. Yes her grip was tightening and even sliding up around Wednesday’s neck. Shortly a degree of strangulation might commence, things were looking up.

Hermione adjusted her grip and whispered “Sorry”; Wednesday sighed, ah well a girl could hope. Arya’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Hermione, remind me why we are jammed in here. I’ve cosied up with my sister in the winter before today but never in quite so small a bed”.

“We agreed it was the safest place. I must admit it is a bit more of a squeeze than I thought it would be. We are, shall we say, ‘fairly intimate’ for three barely pubescent girls”.

Arya’s observation, “One of the few times in the next few years when we will all be pleased to have no tits. I suspect one large bosom between us and two of us would be on the floor” sounded just slightly forced as if she actually felt deprived. Wednesday filed that away under ‘possible mental torment’ for the future.

Hermione replied “I can’t actually imagine any of us with a ‘large bosom’, even in the future”.

Wednesday contemplated the idea, large breasts, there didn’t seem to be any likelihood of pain as a result of possessing a pair [Wednesday hadn’t heard of ‘nipple rub’] and therefore she had to admit she couldn’t see why she would particularly want any breasts at all.

Hermione kept on talking “I’m sorry but a mental image of the look on Ron’s face after meeting me in the morning when I’d sprouted a DD cup overnight has just popped into my mind and I’m having trouble getting rid of it”.

Wednesday felt she needed to join the conversation and try and get back to the reason they were there, however the words that came out didn’t quite achieve the desired objective. “You do seem to be becoming a lot more interested in sex suddenly Hermione”.

“Yes, I suspect if we ever got round to sex education at Hogwarts, which isn't going to happen, then someone might blame my hormones. You’re right though; now my minds wandered to the idea of Ron seeing me with large breasts, I can’t help thinking about the result of him knowing we’re all in bed like this; frenzied friction I suspect”.

Arya spoke up, “Well for now you’re welcome to your erotic idyll. I started this morning, the cramps are worse than normal and mopping up and rinsing out aren’t easy when you’re travelling in a world that doesn’t have the advantages of disposable sanitary protection”.

Wednesday slid her arms down to Arya’s belly and started to massage, gently “Ah Cara Mia, would that I could take your pain from you. I barely get a twinge most months”. She heard Arya and Hermione both sigh.

“Do you have to rub it in”.

Unfortunately Wednesday totally misunderstood Arya’s comment. “No I think you’ve misunderstood, I don’t rub it in, just let it naturally smear here and there. Granny has a special way of washing my bedsheets, which removes the dirt but leaves the stains behind. As I grow they’ll spread down the sheet until I can trace my menstrual history all the way from puberty to maturity. I do think you girls attach too much importance to cleaning it away, it’s barely more than a teaspoon a month you know”. She felt Hermione shudder behind her; sometimes it was too easy, grossing out her teenage girlfriends wasn’t really much more sport than putting warfarin down for rats, there was no thrill of the chase, no chance of failure or retaliation. Idly she wondered, could she goad one of the girls into retaliation. She suspected it would be easier with Arya, but Arya had no sense of subtlety, it would be one sudden stabbing sensation, she couldn’t envisage her tying Wednesday down and starting with a lot of little cuts, with a blunt knife, in the sensitive feminine parts of her anatomy. Wednesday had been pleasantly surprised to discover that all those new excitable parts of her anatomy could, if properly abused, bring on some quite exquisite pain and if you could mix the pain with the actual arousal as well, the options seemed to be limitless for someone with patience and a co-operative friend. Arya however lacked patience in that way, she had perseverance in the way she pursed her victims, but not patience when she finally came to deal with them.

Would Hermione be any better. She suspected she might be, Hermione was inventive in her use of magic. She had slightly shyly admitted to having repurposed spells for her own physical erotic pleasure. All Wednesday had to do was get her to introduce the adequate element of pain into the equation. The problem with Hermione was she had all sorts of ‘morale standards’ which lead her to consider violence as something only to be used as a last resort, in a very limited way against those that had given her no other choice. Could that be the challenge, to convince Hermione she was sufficiently depraved in some way that she would feel she had to inflict pain to restrain her. 

Wednesday felt a fluttering in her lower abdomen. These were sufficiently new sensations that it took her a moment to realise she was becoming slightly aroused by the ideas in her head. Sexuality was interestingly strange, simple pain had been Wednesdays friend since she could first remember falling over and skinning her knees, but these new sensations, initially so pleasant, but which she was going to learn to pervert to painful ends were so very different.

Wednesday could feel Arya’s body softening and relaxing as she massaged her belly, she even heard a very tiny wimper, was Arya also beginning to experience arousal. The gently motion of Arya’s bum in her groin lead her to think she was. So now was the time, she slid one hand gently down into Arya’s pants, the other up onto her chest. Subtly she let her fingers slide over the soft flesh, Arya offered no resistance, until they found a nipple and a clitoris; then she tweaked sharply.

Arya let out a muffled scream; twisted and butted Wednesday in the face, Wednesday felt her nasal septum snap and blood start to flow. She felt so disappointed, she had been right Arya had no sense of finesse.

Wednesday heard Hermione mutter something and she felt her body stiffen, she was no longer in control of her own muscles. Arya appeared similarly rigid and immobile in her arms.

“Stop it you two”.

The sensation of powerlessness was interesting; Wednesday thought it was worth a try “I’m sorry Hermione, I’ve been a very naughty girl, tweeking Arya’s clit and nipple. You’ll have to punish me, very severely for that”.

“I have no intention of punishing you the way you want. You have to understand Wednesday, Arya and I don’t enjoy pain the way you do. I know I can be accused of cultural insensitivity, or something similar, but you really must understand that. Now I’ll release you both as long as you agree no more violence by either of you”.

Wednesday suspected she was fighting a losing battle, but wasn’t that in its way a form of mental pain. “I really do think Hermione that the only way to make me understand is to inflict pain on me”.

“No it isn’t, you’re just trying to manipulate me Wednesday, you’re not really very subtle you know”.

“Oh just let me tie you to a table for a day and I’d show you subtle Hermione” Wednesday’s thought went unspoken. “Sorry Arya, I won’t do it again, unless you beg me properly of course”. Wednesday could see a small tear in the corner of Arya’s eye. She’d never seen her cry before. Arya’s reply was a mere whisper, she clearly didn’t want Hermione to hear her.

“You’re a total and utter bitch. Just for a second while you were massaging my cramps I thought you cared, about me not just about your own perverted pleasures”.

Wednesday was confused “But I do care Cara Mia, I care about you a lot, I feel your pain physical and mental. I just want to encourage you to embrace it and enjoy it with me, not fight it the way you do. Embrace your despair and anguish as well, including your despair about me”.

“Let us go Hermione. I’ll not hit her again, but we’re changing places, Wednesday you’re in the front and keep your hands to yourself”.

Wednesday felt the stiffness disappear; she twisted under Arya and turned her back to her. Arya wrapped herself back round Wednesday. She’d been right; she was virtually falling out of the bed. Arya’s arms were round her, she could feel some tension, Arya was holding her. It was only a foot or two but Arya was keeping her from falling, Wednesday focussed on that feeling and started to imagine what would happen if Arya let go; she was subservient, she was dependant on Arya’s power to hold her. It wasn’t much when the fall was eighteen inches but Wednesday grasped at the sense of powerlessness and uncertainty and the way it reinforced the swirling between her legs. However improbably she felt her breathing deepen with Arya’s and the two girls drifted into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always comments, even criticism is better than silence, but if you read it despite the warnings and now want to do ‘angry’ please don’t bother as you were warned and you'll just be deleted.


End file.
